


A Life Long Ago

by through_shadows_falling



Series: MCU Ficlets [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Tower, Brother-Sister Relationships, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Family Reunions, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mario Kart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8498809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: Bucky couldn't believe it. A) Tony was talking to him, and B) He was trying to convince Bucky to reunite with his sister. That was a crazy idea. Rebecca Barnes Proctor may be alive and kicking, but there was no way she would want to see him after all that had happened. She was old, and probably wouldn't even remember him.But what if she did?





	1. Chapter 1

It was a bad night, but Bucky ignored direct orders to _wake Steve up_  by putting on his fuzzy robe and socks, and claiming his spot in the Tower’s common area. 

His spot was comprised of a lumpy chair angled in the corner of the room, against the wall of windows. From there, he could see everything from the kitchen to the living space - plus he had a magnificent view of New York City far below.

Bucky had always loved window-gazing, but a long time ago, the windows he had known were drafty, and let cold seep through the cracks and cause him to shiver. The Avengers Tower windows were not like that, so he could stare down at the blinking lights and burrow into his robe, snug and warm. 

He’d thought it before and he’d think it again: the future did have its perks, namely in its abundance of soft, fluffy clothes. He could never confuse himself into thinking he was back with HYDRA while wearing his robe and socks. 

As Bucky let his thoughts drift, the distant tread of footsteps made him startle into alertness. Before he could stop himself, the Winter Soldier was assessing a new potential threat.

_Male. Small in stature. Slightly inebriated. Unarmed. Target has not noted the Asset’s presence._

Bucky shook his head to banish the voice, though he quickly stilled when the person entered the common area and flicked on the lights. 

A round of harsh swearing echoed out as Bucky blinked in the sudden brightness.

“Jesus Christ! You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, as Tony’s question sounded rhetorical.

“The hell you doing sitting there in the dark like that?” 

Again, Bucky didn’t answer. This was Tony, and Tony didn’t like him. Steve had advised him to avoid Tony when possible, in order to give the man space to come to terms with his parents’ murderer. 

Bucky had obeyed that order until right now, and he hesitated, unsure of what to do. He knew he should leave, but he wasn’t ready to face the demons in his nightmares again. He needed more time to calm down in his spot. But then again, this was _Tony’s_  tower, and he was nice enough to let Bucky stay even though he was the reason Tony was an orphan. 

If only he could force himself to move, but it was like he was cemented to the chair. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

During Bucky’s internal dilemma, Tony recovered enough to shuffle into the kitchen and start up the cappuccino machine. The smell of coffee drifted out, and Bucky watched, wary, as Tony yawned and ran a hand through his hair. 

“That’s one way to wake a guy up,” he called out, leaning against the counter. He glanced at Bucky. “Just sitting there in the dark. But I guess you’re used to that kind of thing, huh? Probably made many a good G.I. Joe crap their pants.”

Bucky cocked his head. Tony’s body language was tense, but loosening more and more. Tony probably wouldn’t attack him. Probably.

“No,” Bucky said at last in a raspy voice, surprising both himself and Tony, who raised his eyebrows.

“The statue speaks! And what do you mean, no?”

“They did not ‘crap their pants.’ They mostly urinated.”

A beat passed, and then Tony barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I believe it.” The machine beeped, and Tony helped himself to a cappuccino. He didn’t offer Bucky any, although Bucky could tell there was some left.

With another yawn, Tony exited the kitchen, mug in hand, and sat on the far side of the couch away from Bucky. He faced the flat-screen TV on the wall, but didn’t turn it on. He placed his mug on the coffee table.

Bucky studied Tony’s profile, noting the bags under his eyes, the new lines on his face, his sagging shoulders and rumpled clothes. In this moment, in the middle of the night, Tony looked every bit his age. Unlike Bucky, who should’ve been 99, or at the very least long dead and rotting in the ground.

Tony blew on his cappuccino and took a sip, his gaze distant. “So. What brings you here on this most glorious of nights?”

Huh. Was Tony actually trying to have a civil conversation with him? Should Bucky answer, or leave?

He must’ve taken too long to respond, because Tony released a long-suffering sigh. 

“I feel like shit, and I swear I just wanna talk. Weird, I know. Me talking to the Winter Soldier. Poor old Dad must be rolling his grave.”

“I’m not the Winter Soldier.”

Tony finally looked at him. His lip quirked. “Really? Because you’re the spitting image of the guy. Didn’t your shrink ever tell you you can’t run from your past? I know mine did.”

Bucky bristled, but couldn’t deny Tony’s words. He was Bucky _now_ , but the Winter Soldier was still part of him, as much as he hated to admit it. Part of him debated apologizing, but instead he opted for silence.

Tony took a few more sips of his drink, then lounged back on the couch, his legs crossed and his arms thrown out. He eyed Bucky and then smirked, though this expression was less hostile. “Are you wearing a bathrobe and fuzzy socks?”

Bucky didn’t need to dignify that with a reply. Tony could see he was.

Tony let out a whistle. “Man, what would HYDRA think, seeing their precious weapon all cozied up like that?”

“That’s the point,” Bucky interrupted. “It helps me stay here. Now.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly, his gaze once again faraway. “Yeah. I get that. Flashbacks, am I right? Good times.” He shook his head. “My parents were there, this time.”

Bucky stiffened. He’d said he was sorry once, but was never sure if he needed to say it more so that the word and meaning could really sink in. Then again, he didn’t deserve forgiveness, not that he expected Tony to ever give it to him in the first place.

Which was why he frowned at Tony’s next question.

“You remember your parents at all?”

Bucky couldn’t meet Tony’s eyes. He picked at an errant string dangling from the tie of his robe. “Yes, I remember them.”

Quiet met his response until Tony huffed. “Well aren’t you just a chatty Cathy? I might as well be talking to myself.” He drank more of his cappuccino. 

“I remember my sister, too.”

Tony choked and coughed. He beat his chest before recovering enough to stare at Bucky again. “You had a sister?”

“She was a few years younger than me. Her name was Rebecca.”

“Is she still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“You haven’t thought to look?”

Bucky gazed out the window. Cars far below sped down the narrow streets. He could just discern the grating roar of a motorcycle among them. “Even if she were alive, the man she knew is dead.”

“So you wouldn’t want to see her? Come on, man. That’s bullshit.”

Bucky glared. “Why?”

“You’re still her brother.” Tony gestured forcefully with his mug until cappuccino sloshed over the side. He cursed and ran for a towel in the kitchen to mop up the spots on the carpet. 

Bucky released a relieved breath, grateful for the respite. Sudden guilt gnawed at him. Before this conversation, he hadn’t thought of Rebecca even once. What if she _was_ still alive?

No, it didn’t matter. He stood firm behind his answer. She wouldn’t want to see him. For one thing, she would be very old, and he still looked like he was in his late twenties. For another thing, he was a murderer, and formerly HYDRA’s puppet assassin. It would break her heart to know what had happened to him after he fell off the train. She’d undoubtedly moved on from his death as well, and he didn’t want to reopen old wounds - if she even remembered him at her age. 

“Hey JARVIS,” came Tony’s abrupt voice, as he'd returned from the kitchen. “Can you tell me if Rebecca Barnes - the Winter Soldier’s sister - is still alive?”

Bucky ground his teeth as Tony smiled innocently at him. The look was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was squatting on the floor to clean up his mess. 

“Of course, sir,” came JARVIS’s clipped, British tone. “According to the latest Census, Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes Proctor, sister of James Buchanan Barnes, is very much alive. Her last recorded address is in Brooklyn, where she frequents the Senior Center and uses social media to promote her love of quilting.”

“Classy lady,” Tony said with a grin. “Social media at her age? Very impressive. She’s what, 95?”

“96,” Bucky and JARVIS said at the same time.

“She was born in 1920,” JARVIS clarified. 

“No,” Bucky added when Tony next opened his mouth. “I don’t want to see her.”

“Sounds like she still has her faculties. She’d probably be happy to know her brother is still kicking even after being HYDRA’s bitch for a while.”

“I said  _NO._ ” Bucky rocketed off his chair so fast that his head spun with dizziness. He stood with fists clenched as Tony cowered beneath him. “I can’t… She won’t…” His chest heaved as words clogged in his throat.

Tony dropped his towel so he could hold up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, sorry to bring it up. I just thought…” He eyed Bucky before cautiously standing, his hands still raised. “Just hear me out for one more second.” He waited, and a long moment passed before Bucky gave him a terse nod.

“Alright, so.” Tony sighed and stared hard at the floor. “I know I’ve got Mommy and Daddy issues out the wazoo, but I still wish that I’d gotten a chance to say goodbye. If I’d known that was the last time I would see them…as _much_  as I hated them sometimes, it would’ve been nice to, I don’t know. Tell them something cheesy like I still loved them and all that crap.” He finally met Bucky’s eyes. “Don’t you want to see your sister again before it’s too late?”

Buckys heart pounded. He worked his jaw, but couldn’t speak. 

Tony seemed to take pity on him. “You don’t have to make a decision now, but just think about it, huh? You could learn about her life, about her husband and kids and grandkids. You’re probably an uncle and great uncle, maybe even great, _great_  uncle! Wouldn’t you want to hear that from her in person? Know how your family is doing nowadays?”

Bucky finally regained his voice. “Why?”

Tony frowned. “Why what?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

Tony blew out a breath as he swiped his towel up from the floor. He crossed to the kitchen. “Let’s just say I may or may not have stolen your files from Steve, and I may or may not have read them and am feeling somewhat…charitable. I know, I know, crazy, right?” He shot Bucky a smirk that faded back into exhaustion. “You’ve had a shit life. Maybe this could be a happy thing, you know?”

Bucky blinked, processing his words. They didn’t - couldn’t - make sense. This was _Tony_. Bucky had killed _his parents_.

But Tony seemed earnest. Even the Winter Soldier noted the sincerity of his voice and body language. 

Bucky let his shoulders fall. A wave of weariness passed over him as well, and he yearned for his bed. He started to tread back toward his room, but not before pausing at the kitchen entrance, where Tony was pouring himself another cappuccino. 

“Thank you,” Bucky said in a quiet voice. “I’ll think about it.”

“Aye, aye, Sergeant,” Tony said with a mock salute. “And sweet dreams, Bathrobe Beauty. Nice chatting with you.”

Bucky felt a phantom smile tugging at his lips, even as his mind whirled. Still, he kept his robe on as he climbed back into bed. 

Should he see his sister again? He’d have to see what Steve thought about the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of feelings about Tony forgiving Bucky, okay? And I've had this scene in my head for a while, plus more to come! 
> 
> Also, I don't know much about canon Rebecca Barnes Proctor - I'm kind of going to make up my own version to suit this story's purposes. It'll be worth it, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

When Bucky woke up, he made a beeline for the bathroom. He’d taken a shower the night before, but hell, he wanted to take another one. Plus, it would give him an opportunity to keep at bay Tony’s words from the night before. He wasn’t quite ready to think of them, and banished all thoughts of his sister to the back of his mind.

After he’d stood under the hot spray until his skin turned pink, he stepped out into the steam, crossed to his room to get dressed, and then poked his head into Steve’s bedroom. The rumpled bed was empty, but Bucky didn’t panic. Along with jeans and a comfy t-shirt, he’d pulled on fluffy socks, and he was able to remind himself that he was safe by wriggling his toes in the fuzzy material. Steve was probably just eating breakfast or working out.

With a yawn, Bucky combed fingers through his wet hair and padded into his and Steve’s private kitchen. Nothing. No note, but that was just fine. When Bucky had first returned, Steve _always_  left a note. The gesture was sweet, of course, but Bucky wasn’t going to suffer abandonment issues if Steve was just _running to the bathroom_. Seriously. At least he’d agreed to only leave notes if he was heading out of the Tower or was off doing something important like Avenging.

Bucky wandered to the common area and the larger kitchen where he’d encountered Tony the night before. Someone had laid out a batch of mini muffins on the counter. The scent of bananas clung to the air, and when Bucky lifted one of the treats with his flesh hand, they were still warm. 

Slippered footsteps announced the arrival of Bruce, who smiled. He wore an over-sized robe with bits of flour dusting the front, and had his hands jammed in the pockets. “You’re right on time. They just came out of the oven.”

Bucky sniffed the one he’d grabbed. “They smell good.”

“I bet they taste even better.”

Bucky popped it in his mouth and chewed. It was soft and slightly gooey, with just the right amount of banana and sweetness. “Mmm. Yes. They do.”

“I’m glad,” Bruce said. “Figured I might as well do something productive while I couldn’t sleep this morning.”

Bucky grunted. Considering he was up half of the previous night, he could understand. Perhaps he should pick up baking instead of sitting, staring out the window.

Bruce passed him to access the coffee maker, and the odor of the brew reminded Bucky of Tony’s cappuccinos and his current mission. 

“Do you know where Steve is?” he asked.

“He was going to the gym, last I saw.”

“Thanks. And thanks for the muffin.”

Bruce raised his mug in acknowledgement.

Bucky departed for the gym and spent the elevator ride and journey down the corridors pondering what to say so he wouldn’t influence Steve’s answer. He knew his reasons for wanting to stay away from his sister, but he wanted Steve’s honest reply. 

A thought made him pause just outside the gym door. What if Steve had already visited her? He’d been out of the ice for a few years now, and could’ve looked her up. And even if he hadn’t, what if he wanted to see Rebecca but Bucky didn’t? Their families had been close, back in the day. She was just as much Steve’s little sister as she was Bucky’s. 

Bucky took a moment to breathe to himself before he slipped into the gym. 

As he expected, Steve was at the punching bags and didn’t appear to have noticed Bucky’s entrance. He pounded away with even strokes, letting out harsh breaths in the intervals. His face was flushed, and as Bucky approached from the side, he could make out sweat beading the hair over Steve’s right temple. 

“Steve,” he said.

Steve startled with a yelp, which made Bucky’s lips quirk.

“Jesus, Buck! You scared me,” Steve said.

“Aren’t you not supposed to say the lord’s name in vain?”

Steve shot him a flat look. “Yeah, yeah.” He snatched up a towel from the floor and wiped his face. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“So I was up most of last night, and I had a conversation with Tony--”

“Aw, come on, I told you to wake me if you couldn’t sleep or had a nightmare.”

Bucky glared at him. Leave it to Steve to focus on the wrong part of the sentence.

Finally, his words seemed to catch up to Steve, who blinked in sudden puzzlement. “Wait. You had a conversation with _Tony_? Are you okay?”

“Would you quit asking me that? _Yes_ , I’m okay.”

“But... _Tony_?”

Bucky shrugged. His gaze darted around to the gym equipment. “It was fine. He didn’t punch me or anything, if that’s what you were worried about.” He snuck a peek at Steve’s face, but he didn’t seem amused by Bucky’s dark humor.

Bucky sighed. “We just talked about whatever, but then Tony found out that Rebecca was alive.”

“Rebecca?”

“My sister.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Rebecca’s alive?”

“You didn’t know?”

Steve shook his head, and Bucky had to refrain from rolling his eyes at the guilt that swamped Steve’s expression. 

“I had no idea. I should’ve realized... Things have just been so...” Steve’s fists clenched and unclenched.

“It’s not your fault. Sheesh. She’s still alive. We’ve got some time left.”

“But is she like...?” Steve bit his lip.

Ah, right. Peggy. 

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “But JARVIS said she posts to social media all the time. She can use a computer at least, which means, I dunno, I guess she’s with it?”

“Okay. So what did you want to talk about? Did you want to plan a date to see her?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. He snapped it shut as he frowned. Finally, he managed, “I don’t know what to do.”

Then it was Steve’s turn to frown. “Hold on, are you trying to ask my opinion about whether you should see her or not?”

Steve wasn’t all bad if he could read Bucky’s mind so helpfully. Bucky nodded.

“Well,what do you _want_ to do?”

Never mind, Steve was the worst and didn’t get it at all. “I don’t _know_. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand. She’s your sister.”

“And I’m an ex-assassin.”

“An ex-POW.”

“Call it whatever you want, but that doesn’t change anything.”

Steve tossed the towel over his shoulder and grabbed a water bottle from a nearby bench. He took several long, contemplative gulps before screwing the cap back on.

“So you’re afraid to scare her?” he asked.

“For one thing, I’m not dead. And I’m not who she remembers.”

“I came back from the dead, and face it, she’s not who we remember either.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“It’s better for her to remember the Bucky of before. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Steve sighed before placing hands on Bucky’s shoulders. “She’s not going to be ashamed of you, Buck. What you did wasn’t your fault.”

Bucky closed his eyes. He let his head fall forward until his forehead rest against Steve’s chest. His voice came out muffled. “And what about us?” 

Not that there was a big ‘us’ yet. His and Steve’s relationship was progressing slowly. They hadn’t moved past kissing yet, and only shared beds on occasion. Still, it was a bright spot in Bucky’s life that he wouldn’t trade for anything.

Steve brushed fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Out of everyone, she knows how close we were as kids. It can’t be _that_ much of a stretch. And we don’t have to tell her, not right away. Not ever if you don’t want to.”

“So I should see her?”

Steve huffed, and the warm gust of air ruffled some of Bucky’s hair. “I’m not going to decide for you.”

“But you think I should see her.”

“I think you should do what you want to do.”

“You want to see her, don’t you?”

“I can always make separate arrangements.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “Fine. I’ll see my sister. But we can’t tell her anything. Or at least, not much.” He pulled back from Steve and gave him a tentative smile. “What do you think?”

“I think that I’m proud of you,” Steve said with a big dopey grin, “And also that I want to kiss you.”

Bucky gave a shy smile and leaned up so their lips could meet. The kiss was chaste and not very long, but it soothed the nerves Bucky hadn’t realized he’d had. He let Steve reel him into a big, sweaty hug and couldn’t complain because he’d never felt safer than in those arms.

Now it was just a matter of arranging the date and time for a visit. Bucky was going to see his sister after seventy plus long years. 

Questions still swirled through his brain. Would Rebecca remember him? If yes, would she even want to see him? What would she think if she found out where he’d been all this time? Would she be horrified, saddened, or full of confusion or pity? 

There was only one way to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

They decided to wait to call Bucky’s sister until after Steve’s three-day charity stint in Washington, D.C. Once he’d returned, they could carefully broach the subject with Rebecca and suss out how she’d feel about an in-person visit, or at the very least, a telephone conversation with her long-lost brother.

Despite having made such a decision, terror wormed its way into Bucky’s gut. He couldn’t sleep in the days leading up to Steve’s departure, and he put all his energy into pretending he was fine so Steve wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving. That, of course, made Bucky even more exhausted and anxious, which was never a good combination. For one thing, it made him feel like shit, and for another, the swirling negative emotions often triggered panic attacks and memories that would suck him away for hours.

Which is exactly what happened as soon as he kissed Steve goodbye.

Bucky couldn’t remember how he’d arrived there, but he returned to himself in Clint’s nest after an indeterminate amount of time had passed.

It had been Tony’s idea, of course, to name it a ‘nest,’ though he wasn’t far off the mark.The nest was a steel platform high in the rafters above the common area, and was given the nickname because Clint had been the one who initially found it. After Bucky stumbled upon the space a few weeks into his stay at the Tower, Clint had joined him and explained that it was his place to ‘relax and get away from it all.’

At first, Bucky thought he was intruding, but then Clint told him he could use the spot, too - though only Bucky and no one else. Now, what had once been a cold and lifeless area of darkness, was a nest softly lit by a string of Christmas lights and packed with fuzzy blankets and pillows. Bucky had been embarrassed that the look changed so much on his behalf until he found Clint nuzzling against a pillow at one point. 

In the end, it was his and Clint’s safe space, and the other Avengers respected that. 

On days like today, Bucky was beyond grateful for the nest’s existence.

He was also appreciative of Clint, who sat beside him, his legs dangling over the edge of the platform. He wore simple clothes and was weaponless without the knives stowed on his body. His hearing aids glinted as he kept his gaze trained below. He didn’t speak, but his presence was warm and solid - though he’d been careful to leave room between them.

Bucky slowly uncurled from the fetal position. He’d been hugging his legs to his chest, and now his cramped muscles protested the movement. He stretched out, wondering how long he’d been lost in his mind. At least the memories weren’t _negative_ , per se. In fact, his brain had inundated him with sensations from his childhood in Brooklyn, all of which featured Rebecca in some way.

No, not Rebecca. Becks. That’s what he’d called her. His breath stuttered. 

“You were gone a long time,” Clint said at last, and Bucky wanted to hug him for the perfectly timed distraction.

“How long?” he rasped as his breathing calmed.

“Hmm.” Clint lifted his wrist. “Let’s see… Steve left around 11 and it’s almost 5 now, so…yeah.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “Fuck.” He should’ve realized that repressing his emotions would lead him to a doozy of a dissociative episode. He could picture his therapist shaking her head in disappointment, which he knew was bullshit since she would never do that as a professional. Still, he should’ve recognized the patterns and aimed to _prevent_  an attack instead of letting it happen.

“Do you need me to call Steve?” Clint asked.

Bucky shook his head and opened his eyes. “It’s not… I don’t…”

“Alright, I won’t. Wanna talk about what’s eating you?”

That Clint didn’t _know_ was actually a relief. Steve and Tony had both maintained their promises to keep Bucky’s situation with Rebecca quiet until he felt comfortable discussing it.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped as more of his body relaxed. It was okay. He was safe. Clint was a friend.

“My sister’s alive,” he said finally.

Clint’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline. “Rebecca Barnes? Your little sister?”

Bucky stared at him in surprise.

Clint’s smile was sheepish. “I’ve told you I read way too many of your biographies as a kid, right?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Right.” Along with that, one of Clint’s prized possessions was a signature ‘Bucky Bear’ that had been produced during the war. Apparently, each of the Howling Commandos had their own version, though Steve’s was by far the most popular. It’d even faced a resurgence in production, due to Captain America’s return.

“So she’s alive and you’re worried about seeing her?”

“It’s stupid. I just… I wish I had more time. But she’s old. And I know I _should_  see her, but…” He shrugged.

“That’s rough,” Clint said. “But I mean, you know she’s not going to judge you, right? Like, we’ve all done shitty things, and the whole world knows about SHIELD now.”

“All the world knows about me is that I used to be a ghost, and then I wasn’t when I attacked and tried to kill Captain America.”

“Oh. Yeah. Ouch. That does suck.”

Bucky snorted despite himself. “Yeah.”

“I can get your panic, then. Totally understandable. But coming from a fellow brainwashed lunatic, people will get it. _Especially_  family.”  

Bucky sighed. “I haven’t seen her in seventy years. How can we be family? I don’t even know what she looks like now.”

“So let’s go see her.”

“What?”

“Just some casual surveillance. So you know a little more of what to expect.” 

Bucky gaped at him, but Clint did have a point. A lot of his fear stemmed from uncertainty. If he knew what she looked like, that was one thing to cross off his list. 

“Okay.”

“Alrighty then. A mini mission. Let’s go gather some intel.”

Clint stood and Bucky copied his example. The sludge in his mind drained away to energy, to action, to adrenaline. 

He was going to see his sister.


	4. Chapter 4

What made a person a person? 

Bucky often wondered this question since reclaiming himself and his memories. Now, he extended the thoughts to a gaggle of old women across the street, exiting from Brooklyn’s senior center. Just who was his sister now?

Bucky sat in the passenger seat of an unmarked van parked along the side of the road. The windows were tinted from the outside, so he could look out with binoculars and not worry about being seen as a stalker. 

Behind him, Clint futzed with a series of TV monitors that he’d rigged up to security cameras in the area. That’d been his job during their mini-mission - prepping their equipment. Meanwhile, Natasha had volunteered her services and gathered intel on Rebecca’s typical schedule. It seemed ridiculous that the famous Black Widow would waste her skills on an old lady, but she’d wanted to help as soon as she realized something was up between Bucky and Clint. The official op didn’t require her presence, though, for which Bucky was grateful. The van was barely big enough for two people, let alone three - despite how tiny Natasha was.

“That her?” Clint asked, and Bucky leaned over to see where Clint pointed on the monitor. 

Bucky peered out the window to corroborate. “No. She has a bigger nose.”

“Harsh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s an observation, nothing more,” Bucky said. “She always gave me shit about my hair, so I made fun of her nose.” He smiled at the sudden memory that burst in his mind. He’d forgotten about that until right now. 

Clint shook his head. “Siblings, man. Oh, hey, what about her?”

Bucky gazed out the window and his breath left him in a whoosh. 

There she was. Rebecca Barnes Proctor. His little sister, who’d only just started to woo men in the dance halls and wear frilly skirts and daring lipstick. Now, she was shorter than he remembered, slightly stooped, with pure white hair cropped closely above her ears and thick, wide glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. 

But her smile. God, when she smiled, Bucky swore his heart stopped. It didn’t matter that her face was full of wrinkles, or that she wore plain, simple clothes compared to the wild patterns she’d adored as a girl. 

“Becks,” he breathed, and trailed her with his gaze as she waved goodbye to a few of the other ladies and headed, solo, for the parking lot. She carried with her a big, overflowing bag stuffed with what were probably quilting supplies. After a moment, she stopped beside a white sedan. As she fumbled for something inside the purse - most likely her car keys - one of the handles slid off her wrist. The bag slipped and several round, silver objects fell out and rolled beneath her car.  

Distantly, Bucky heard Clint’s shocked voice, but he didn’t register his words. He was already moving out of the car and across the street, barely taking his eyes off his sister.

Closer now, he heard her muttering under her breath as she set her purse on the ground. Using the car for support, she braced her hands on the door and stooped low, though it was clear she wouldn’t be able to bend far enough to retrieve what she’d dropped.

“I can get them for you,” Bucky said when he arrived beside her. 

Rebecca straightened and started to turn to him. “Why thank you, young–” Her squeaky voice dropped as her eyes widened. They stared at each other for several long seconds, and then she glanced away, blinking rapidly. “Forgive me. You look an awful lot like my brother, back before he died in the great war. Though I suppose it’s called World War II now.” She let out a tinny laugh.

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest. This was it. “I…I didn’t die, actually.”

Rebecca’s head whipped up, but Bucky couldn’t look at her wondering expression. He closed his eyes and whispered, “It’s me, Becks. It’s Bucky.”

At the nickname, a soft sound punched out of her.

He peeked open his eyes to witness her mouth fall open. She reached out a shaky hand. “Bucky?” Her voice was croaky and high-pitched.

He let her approach, fighting all instincts to back away. A soft, wrinkled hand touched his cheek, and she brought up the other to fully cup his face.

“Is it really you?” 

He swallowed, his eyes stinging with the unshed tears he could see reflected in her gaze. “Yeah. It’s really me.”

“How? And you’re so young! How on earth?” But she cut off the question with a brisk shake of her head. She chuckled, the sound watery. “I should’ve known.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to frown. “Huh?”

Rebecca smiled. “I should’ve known with Steve back that you’d be soon to follow. You two always were thicker than thieves.”

He ducked his head as his sister removed her hands so she could grasp him in a hug instead. Bucky breathed in the scent of her - a hint of jasmine and baby powder, along with something that was uniquely Rebecca. He embraced her back, but carefully, too aware of how brittle she was, especially compared to his metal arm. He could feel the bones of her spine through her shirt. She was so thin, so breakable. 

And yet she hugged him fiercely, with all the power in her tiny limbs. 

When they pulled apart, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “How long have you been back? And where were you? The notice said you died on a mission. Some of the Howlies visited, not long after the war ended. They said you fell from a train.” She paused to clear her throat. 

Bucky inhaled and exhaled a few steady, calming breaths. “When HYDRA captured me the first time, they injected me with the same kind of serum Steve got to make him a super soldier. That’s the only reason I survived the fall.”

Rebecca broke her gaze from his as she seemed to suddenly take in their surroundings. “Goodness. The senior center parking lot is hardly the place for this. Do you want to go somewhere?” Her hand clamped over his flesh wrist and squeezed. “I want to hear about you.”

Did she, though? Bucky steeled himself and gave her a nod. “Let me get what you dropped first.”

“Oh, right. It was just a few thimbles, I think.”

Bucky knelt down to fish the thimbles out from under her car as she continued with a disbelieving tone, “Were you… _spying_ on me?”

He gripped the thimbles and stood stiffly. “Yes?” he said, as he dropped the objects into her open palm. She returned them to her bag.

Her lips were pursed, but then she rolled her eyes in typical Rebecca fashion. “You could’ve called me, you know. I have a cell phone now. My son set it up for me, and I can work it pretty well. I changed the background image earlier today, in fact.”

That caused Bucky’s lips to twitch into a grin. “I know. I’m sorry. But it’s been…it’s been really hard lately. I wanted to make sure, I mean, I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me? I’m 96 years old. Nothing scares me anymore.”

“You always were fearless,” Bucky said fondly. His smile dropped. “But what happened to me was bad, Becks. Really, really bad.”

“I still want to hear about it, whatever you’re willing to share. Please.” She eyed him with a wobbly smile. “It’s not everyday your big brother comes back from the dead. If only Ma could be here for this. First you, then Steve. It broke her heart to bury you two, and yet you’re both here again. It’s a miracle.”

A lump formed in Bucky’s throat, but he managed, “Do you have time now to talk?”

Rebecca snatched up her purse. “I think I can clear my schedule. Let me just give my caretaker Phyllis a call. She gets nervous about me driving alone.”

“Oh no, we can drive.”

“We?”

Bucky waved over to Clint, who was now leaning against the van.

“You _were_ spying on me!” Rebecca laughed and playfully swatted at him.

“I admitted it, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, now let me find my stupid phone. Phyllis is never going to believe this.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the van, Clint drove in respectful silence with Bucky and his sister in the backseat. Rebecca filled the air with squeaky rambling about her - and Bucky’s - family. She detailed what everyone was doing with their lives, from her children, to her grandchildren, to even her great grandchildren. She had a far better memory than Bucky did. 

He nodded along at first, then drifted away in his mind as he recalled everything he needed to tell her. It had been more than half a century since they last saw each other, and all his memories were painful. What could he share that wouldn’t ruin her mood and the nice day they’d been having?

Bucky jolted back to himself when Rebecca suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, let’s get a late lunch! I have coupons. Dottie’s Diner does breakfast all day! I remember how much you liked your eggs.”

Bucky didn’t comment on that as Clint circled around for a parking spot. Bucky had eaten plenty of eggs since moving in with the Avengers, but he had no recollection of having them _before_. He’d have to take his sister’s word for it.

“I always thought you were crazy with that hot pepper sauce you _insisted_ on putting on them,” Rebecca continued. “What’s it called? Right, Tabasco Sauce. Nowadays everybody uses it. You know, I used to go to restaurants and ask for it, just to remember you.”

Clint turned off the car and shifted to look at them over his shoulder. “We’re here.” He smiled, but Bucky didn’t miss the flash of concern shot in his direction. 

“That’s great, Becks,” Bucky said, a lump in his throat. “I don’t...I don’t remember that at all.” He hadn’t had Tabasco Sauce in decades, apparently.

Rebecca frowned at him before peering closely at Clint. She made a surprised sound. “Wait, I _do_ recognize you! You’re the arrow man. You’re an Avenger.”

Clint nodded. “You can still call me Clint, but yeah, I’m also Hawkeye.”

“So does that mean you’re an Avenger too, like Steve?” Rebecca asked Bucky. She sounded so hopeful and proud that Bucky wanted to throw up.

He swallowed heavily. “No, I’m-”

“Yes, he is,” Clint interrupted with a pointed look.

Bucky scowled. “But I’m not an Avenger.”

“Not _officially_ ,” Clint said with air quotes. “But there were a few missions when some mysterious sniper - I won’t name any _names_ \- saved our asses.” He winced and glanced quickly at Rebecca. “Butts. I mean, saved our butts.”

Rebecca laughed. “You don’t need to mince your words with me! I’m an old woman. I’ve heard it all, trust me. My grandchildren swear worse than you.”

Clint grinned. “Well, Mrs. Proctor, shall we head inside?” He eyed Bucky. “You okay to go?”

Bucky nodded as they filed out of the car and into the diner, where a server seated them at a booth against the windows. Before he realized he was doing it, Bucky cased the restaurant for threats. His arm began to whir, even though it appeared that no one present had recognized them. Of course, it helped that they were there in the middle of the afternoon, after the lunch rush, and there was hardly anyone there.

“Whoa, hey, it’s just a diner,” Clint said, grabbing his metal arm as he leaned close. “I’ve got an eye on security, okay? Just relax and enjoy a meal with your sister.” He patted Bucky once before shuffling over to the counter, where he sat at a stool just outside of earshot. 

“He’s a nice fellow,” Rebecca said. “How did you meet?”

“Through Steve,” Bucky said, forcibly calming himself down with deep, even breaths. 

A waitress appeared to take their drink orders. Rebecca ordered tea while Bucky, thinking coffee wouldn’t help much in this situation, opted for just a water with lemon. 

An awkward quiet descended, and Bucky absently opened his menu. Immediately, he was overwhelmed with choices. He’d gotten better at deciding things for himself, but he could already tell that with his heightened emotional state, he wouldn’t be able to do it today. His throat tightened. This was a stupid idea. Why didn’t he think before he stepped out of the van to engage his sister? It’d come naturally, but now she would see just how messed up he was. 

Bucky registered pressure on his metal arm, and lowered the menu to meet his sister’s calm gaze. As they stared at each other, her expression shifted to a thoughtful frown. 

“Is this a prosthetic?” she asked, rapping her knuckles on his arm to make a slight clang. 

He nodded, unable to speak. 

“What happened?”

“HYDRA,” he croaked at last. “My arm got damaged in the fall, and they just...chopped the rest of it off and replaced it with their tech.”

At that moment, the waitress returned with their drinks. She must’ve caught the tail end of Bucky’s words, because she gave him an odd look. He resisted the urge to slump in his chair as Rebecca told the poor girl they would need more time to figure out what they wanted to eat.

Bucky definitely wasn’t hungry now.

“Hm,” Rebecca said after she’d taken a sip of her tea. “Reminds me of the news earlier this year. Did you hear about that? The man with the metal arm who nearly killed Steve?”

Bucky’s chest ached as he closed his eyes. “That was me.”

Neither of them spoke for several agonizing minutes. Bucky couldn’t face her, and kept his head hung. 

“Impossible,” she finally said. “You’d never hurt Steve.”

Bucky withdrew his arms from her reach. “HYDRA tortured and brainwashed me until I didn’t know who I was. Then they told me to kill him, so I was going to until...” He coughed and added before she could speak, “You’ve gotta know. HYDRA turned me into an assassin. I didn’t know who Bucky was, who Steve was. I only knew my mission, and I killed so many people... So many.” He inhaled a shaky breath. “Innocent people, Becks.”

When the continuing silence became too unbearable, he peeked his eyes open.

Rebecca was blinking rapidly at him, her eyes shining. Her skin was pale. She worked her jaw until her voice emerged, raw and hoarse. “Until what? What stopped you from killing Steve?”

“He broke through my programming.”

“Programming?”

“I wasn’t a person. I was a weapon. They used to cryo-freeze me between missions, so that’s why I look the way I do.”

Rebecca, already small and vulnerable, seemed to wilt even further. Her gaze lost its focus, and Bucky could see her hands trembling where she cupped her mug of tea. 

A wave of self-loathing swept through him. This was a mistake. What right did he have to dump his horrific life story on her, even if she was his sister from long ago? He swallowed a sour taste, and his vision blurred with rage at himself.

He was despicable, harming an old woman like this. Especially Rebecca. God, if only he could turn back time, make it so they would never meet and he could instead watch her from a safe distance. She didn’t deserve this. 

Bucky slid out from the booth. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice wobbly. He didn’t wait to hear a response before he dashed out of the diner. 

His last coherent thought was that at least Clint was there to take care of her, since Bucky clearly couldn’t.

He couldn’t even take care of himself.


	6. Chapter 6

“Let me guess: Tall, dark, and brooding is going to be sitting in the shadows again. Ah-ha! I was right. What do I win?”

Bucky’s head jerked up at the sound of Tony’s voice. He blinked, and awareness slowly returned.

He was sitting in his spot in the Tower. He had no idea how he’d gotten there. The last thing he remembered was running from the diner, and at some point answering a call from Steve, where he gave his best performance yet of a sane, calm, non-brain-damaged man. 

In reality, he was anything but. He recalled talking to Steve when it was daylight, and now it was clearly dark, as Tony had just flipped on the lights. He’d lost a lot of time.

He hoped Rebecca had made it home safely with Clint.

“Your boyfriend is back tomorrow, right?” Tony continued over Bucky’s internal musings. “Quit the moping. You’ll see your macho boy-toy soon.”

His salacious tone and pointed wink made Bucky’s fists clench as heat flared in his gut. He glared at Tony as he entered the kitchen for his middle-of-the-night cappuccino. When Tony’s back was turned, Bucky stood and stalked toward him. The Winter Soldier took over to add a sharper sense of menace to his gait. 

“This is all your fault,” Bucky said, and a shamefully large part of him oozed satisfaction when Tony whirled around and paled. 

“What’s my fault?” Tony demanded even as he scrambled back against the counter. The Soldier noted his multiple external fear responses. Tony was terrified. And why wouldn’t he be? Here he was, faced with his parents’ killer. 

Just like that, Bucky deflated. He banished the Soldier and fell into a kitchen chair, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Whoa,” Tony said after a long moment. He blew out a shaky breath. “Damn. I think my whole life just flashed before my eyes.” He recovered enough to add, in a suddenly steely voice, “Mind telling me what the hell that was all about?”

Bucky’s body trembled, and he refused to look up. “You convinced me to see my sister, and I did, and it was a mistake.”

There was silence for a second. “Hold up. I thought you were gonna talk to Steve?”

“I did. And we were going to wait to call her, but then Clint said we could do some surveillance so I wouldn’t be as nervous, and I was a _fucking idiot_.”

“So why are you blaming me?”

Bucky finally met Tony’s gaze. The other man looked drained, his skin sagging under the harsh glare of the kitchen lights. Tony absently rubbed a hand over his heart, a petulant scowl on his face. 

“You’re right,” Bucky said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I guess I _did_  plant the idea...”

This time, Bucky frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and just shook his head. Tony didn’t deserve this, and Bucky didn’t want to cause him any more harm.

But as he trudged from the kitchen, Tony called after him.

“Hey, you want a cappuccino?”

Several minutes later, they both sat on either ends of the couch, Tony with his feet propped on the coffee table, and Bucky stiff with the tiny mug of cappuccino braced in his hands. 

Tony sipped his drink loud and long - probably just to be annoying - but Bucky said nothing. He didn’t quite know why he’d accepted the invitation to stay, to “hang out” as it were, and yet there he was.

At last, Tony shifted. “So. Barnes. Tell me about meeting your sister for the first time in forever.”

Bucky didn’t move. Was this an interrogation?

“Come on. I’m trying to help you out here,” Tony said. He sighed. “I sorta kinda got you into this mess with my big mouth, right? Humor me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Sure, you say that _now._ ” Tony shot him a wry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Just fill in the deets and we can figure out a better game plan. I’m no Captain Stars n’ Stripes, but I have _some_  good ideas every once in a while. Hit me.”

And maybe because Bucky was exhausted, or maybe because he _did_ want to talk to someone about it, but he eventually let down his guard and his whole story poured out. 

Tony whistled when he was done. “Yeah, okay, I can see why you panicked. Little old ladies are _scary tiny_ , and that’s coming from me. They remind me of birds. At least, some of them do.”

Bucky hesitantly sampled the cappuccino as he waited for Tony to get to the point.

“What I’m trying to say is, yeah, maybe you poured it on too thick. Shoulda given your story in smaller dollops. Like sour cream. Did you have sour cream back in the day?”

Bucky leveled him with a flat stare.

“Am I rambling? I’m rambling, aren’t I? Well, this is me in the middle of the night, especially with caffeine. Deal with it, Bucko.”

Bucky relaxed enough to sink a little bit into the couch. “What should I do?”

“Do? Nothing. For now, at least. Take it from me - she just needs time to process it all. I mean, look at how long it took me to process, well... _you_.” He gestured to Bucky, his mug still in hand, though there wasn’t enough left to spill any. “And to be honest, I’m _still_  processing it.”

“You and me both,” Bucky muttered with a huff. “Sometimes I forget...” He swallowed.

“Forget what?”

“That I’m a real person.”

Tony blinked. “Well. Shit.” He shook his head even as he finished his cappuccino. “This conversation is making me want a drink. You interested?”

“No.”

Tony scratched his chin. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Bad enough that we’ve got caffeine. Might not want to add a depressant to the situation, huh?”

“Probably not.”

They lapsed into silence, which Bucky hadn’t thought possible with Tony. But it was actually...nice. Bucky’s heartbeat slowed and he calmed enough to feel at ease, even though Steve wasn’t there. Of course, the reminder that Steve would be home tomorrow helped. Bucky was beyond ready to see him, to talk to him, to cuddle into his warmth.

A door slammed, and both Bucky and Tony stiffened in sudden alarm. Bucky set down his cappuccino and braced himself.

Clint strode into the room, Natasha on his heels.

“That is _not_ what I was expecting,” Clint said, making a face at the two of them. “Since when are you two best buds?”

Ignoring Clint’s question, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and nodded at Bucky. “Your sister’s fine, by the way. She’s rather charming.”

Bucky gazed at her in surprise. “You met her?”

Natasha raised her shoulder in a half-shrug. “Clint called for back-up, so I stepped in.” She smirked. “He needed some help with a little old lady.”

Clint sputtered. “That is _not_  what happened!”

“Rebecca’s okay, though? She’s safe?” Bucky interrupted, leaning forward.

“She’s fine,” Natasha said. “Just a little shook up, that’s all.”

“Welp, seeing as her brother just came back from the dead, it sounds like she’s downright well-adjusted if she’s only a _little_ shook up,” Tony said. He stood and lifted his mug. “Anybody want a cappuccino? I think I need another one.”

“Did she say anything?” Bucky asked Natasha as Clint trailed behind Tony into the kitchen. 

Natasha slid into the seat next to him. Her eyes were kind as she reached out and clapped a comforting hand on Bucky’s knee. “She’s fine, I promise. She’s strong, and Tony’s not wrong that she’s well-adjusted - she actually wants to yell at Steve for not coming to visit her sooner.”

Bucky let out a relieved breath. “That’s Becks for ya.”

“Steve’s going to get an earful. Also, I fully intend to be here when that happens.”

Bucky full-out grinned. “Yeah, it’s not everyday you see Captain America getting yelled at by an old lady.”

Clint and Tony’s voices rose from the other room, bickering about something. Bucky let his eyes sink closed. He could fall asleep right here, right now, even with caffeine in his system and noise in the background.

“It’s going to be okay,” Natasha said as she squeezed his leg. “Get some rest, and you can give her a call tomorrow, okay?”

Bucky groaned dramatically but obeyed as he stood up. “Thanks, Mom,” he told her in Russian.

She thanked him in the same language, her eyes dancing. She grabbed Bucky's mug and tossed back the rest of his cappuccino.

Offering her a lazy wave, Bucky trudged to his bedroom without another word. He pulled on his comfy pajamas, and only just touched down on the pillow before falling asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

It was mid-afternoon, and Steve had only just stepped in the door when Bucky tackled him in a hug. He didn’t give a shit that the other Avengers were watching from the common room, or that Steve smelled a bit funky from traveling. All he cared about was the fact that his boyfriend was home.

Steve slid his pack to the floor before tightening his arms around Bucky. “Hey, Buck. Missed you. Everything okay?”

Bucky shook his head against Steve’s body. “I fucked up,” he said, his voice muffled in Steve’s magnificent chest. 

Steve pulled back to peer closely at him. “Are you alright?”

“There was a minor incident,” Tony said casually from behind Bucky. He was back on the couch with who knew what number cappuccino - possibly double-digits with the way his legs bounced, unable to keep still.

Steve tensed. “What happened?”

“Oh stop freaking him out,” Clint said where he was curled up with Natasha. He glared at Tony. “It’s all good. Really.”

“We’re just glad you’re here, so Bucky-Boo can finally grow some balls to call his sister,” Tony said with a yawn.

“Tony,” Bruce said in warning. He shook his head on the tail end of a weary sigh. He’d had a tough night, and his expression, though warm, was heavily shadowed with fatigue. 

At least he was in a fluffy robe, which Bucky knew from experience helped, especially when Bucky filled him in about his whole sister situation. He didn’t want Bruce to be the only one kept in the dark.

And like Bruce, Bucky had also slept badly last night, which was to say not at all. He’d been awake for hours, unable to sleep past the endless thoughts swirling in his head. 

Instead of wallowing, though, he’d channeled his churning emotions into cleaning, and as the other Avengers trickled in to chat over a shared breakfast, he scrubbed counter tops, wiped down floors, dusted shelves, and even bleached the toilet. Bucky kept himself entertained by reading the insane ingredients in the cleaning solutions people used nowadays. 

Steve’s fingers trailed over Bucky’s hands, and Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment or worry or judgment as Steve inspected the red, cracked skin.

“Tell me,” Steve said quietly, just to Bucky.

Bucky opened his eyes and attempted a smile that fell flat. “You should shower. You smell like airplane.”

“Buck.”

Bucky felt the irrational urge to hide his head against Steve. Maybe if he didn’t move or speak, he could stay there forever, wrapped up snug and secure, the real world far away.

His shoulders drooped. “Not here.”

Steve nodded and grabbed his bag. Together, they shuffled toward Steve’s bedroom. Steve dropped his duffel and then collapsed onto his bed, pulling Bucky down with him so they lay stretched out, facing one another. 

Steve didn’t stop touching him, not for a second. His big, gentle hands traced along Bucky’s neck, examined his jawline, threaded through his hair. Part of Bucky was ashamed that such grounding gave him courage. He’d been stronger, once, as _Steve’s_  anchor rather than the other way around. But that man was long dead, and he had painstakingly learned to take comfort where he could get it.

The story spilled out of him in between one breath and another. Steve, bless him, kept quiet and made no immediate reaction until the end, when Bucky conveyed what Natasha had said.

Steve winced. “I _knew_  I should’ve called Rebecca sooner. I just...got so wrapped up in everything.”

“Not your fault. She’ll understand.”

“Not before she chews me a new one.”

Bucky grinned slightly at that. “Well, yeah. She is still my sister.”

Steve smirked at him, then flopped onto his back, his gaze on the ceiling. “JARVIS, could you please call Rebecca Barnes Proctor for me?”

“Certainly, Captain.”

As the sound of a telephone ringing filled the room, cold panic set into Bucky’s heart. He clutched at Steve. “Wait, we’re doing this now?”

Steve shrugged. “No time like the present, right?”

“But Steve--”

“Hello?” came Rebecca’s squeaky voice, and Bucky froze.

“Um. Hi, Becca. It’s Steve. Steve Rogers.”

There was silence for a moment. Then, “You’ve got a lotta nerve, _Captain America_. How long have you been out of the ice, and yet you couldn’t even send me a note?”

Steve’s face flushed. “I know, I know. There’s no excuse. I meant to check in, but I just...didn’t get around to it. I’m sorry.”

Rebecca huffed. “You’ve been busy saving the world, I guess. You’re just lucky you caught me at the end of a nap. I’m much crankier before I sleep.”

Steve chuckled. “It’s good to hear from you. I was just talking to Bucky and--”

“Is he there with you?” she interrupted. 

Steve met Bucky’s gaze, and before Bucky could shake his head, he said, “Yes, he is.”

“Is he alright? I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “It wasn’t you, Becks. It was all me. I shouldn’t have laid it all on you like that. I’m...messed up.”

“I don’t blame you. I looked you up, you know. That nice man Clint told me you used to be called The Winter Soldier. He and his young lady shared all kinds of stories.”

Nausea rolled in Bucky’s stomach. What had they told her about - getting shot? Nearly dying at his hand?

“Your recovery was truly remarkable, from what I understand.”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

“You were the longest POW in American history. I volunteered at the community center, back in the day. Talked to many soldiers after the war. Absolutely dreadful what many of them went through.  You’ve suffered more than your fair share. It’s just awful.”

Bucky’s eyes burned. He swallowed and tried to speak, but the words lodged in his throat.

“Thank you for understanding,” Steve said softly. “I’m glad you appreciate how far he’s come. He’s...really amazing. Always has been, of course, but even more now, after everything.”

It was Bucky’s turn to blush. He shoved Steve, his ears flaming and his throat unclogging. “Ah, cut it out you punk. Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Steve waggled his eyebrows.

Bucky laughed, and a moment later, sniffling echoed out from the speakers.

Bucky sat up in alarm. “Becks? You okay?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. It’s just so nice hearing you both together again. It’s been too long.”

“It really has,” Bucky said, calm. He wondered if now was the time to broach the topic of their relationship, but at Steve’s short shake of his head, he agreed not to. Another day, then. For now, they’d end on a high note.

“We’ll have to arrange a visit,” Steve said. “We could come to you, or you could visit the Tower.”

“My grandson - your great nephew - would be so jealous to hear of his granny popping by to visit the Avengers.”

“You can invite him,” Bucky blurted out, cringing when Steve shot him a surprised look.

“Oh really? You’d like him. He’s whip-smart. His name’s Scott. He just graduated high school at the top of his class. He’s at NYU now, studying biology. And his sister Kimberly is taking all honors and AP classes. She’s got a gift for languages.”

Bucky smiled. “They sound great. I’d like to meet them.”

“Wonderful! I’ll give them a call. They’ll both be thrilled, absolutely thrilled. Now will all the Avengers be there? You’ve got a good man in Clint, you know. He was very kind. I do believe he’s sweet on that woman who showed up - what was her name?”

Steve looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Natasha?”

“Yes, yes, Natasha. Are they together?”

“Who knows,” Bucky muttered. “They’re some of life’s greatest mysteries.”

Rebecca huffed. “Life’s short. Perhaps I can talk some sense into them. And don’t think you’re off the hook yet, Steven Grant Rogers. You mark my words.”

Steve adopted a contrite expression. “Understood. We’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, yes. I greatly look forward to it. I love you both.”

“Love you, too,” Steve said.

“Love you, Becks,” Bucky echoed. A warmth suffused him then, and he cuddled into Steve’s side, happier than he could remember being in a long time.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more! At least I think there will be... I plan to have fun with Scott and Kim meeting celebrities for the first time, haha!


	8. Chapter 8

Sometimes, it took Bucky an awful long time to remember who he was.

That morning - the morning of his family’s visit to the Tower - Bucky lay in his bed and pondered what it meant to be James Buchanan Barnes. Thanks to his existence as the Winter Soldier, his memories were fractured, fragmented, some of them tinted with surreality as if they had been implanted instead of lived. On some days, he had trouble determining which were real and which were fake.

An hour passed as he lay in silence, unmoving. Steve, blessedly, knocked only once before leaving him alone. He knew Bucky’s coping mechanisms by now, and he also knew that yesterday’s therapy session had been a doozy. In anticipation of his family’s arrival, Bucky’s fears had vomited out of him, and it’d taken hours to calm down, if his current resting rate could even be considered _calm_  to a supersoldier. 

Still, while the session had riled him up, he did feel marginally better. So much so that he finally clambered out of bed, freshened up, put some clothes on, and headed toward the sound of people. 

The Avengers were gathered around the communal table with steaming mugs in hand, most of them quiet under the booming voice of Thor in what Tony had dubbed ‘story mode.’ The Asgardian God had many ‘great tales of ages long past’ and loved to tell them to everyone. Repeatedly. 

As expected, Bucky caught Natasha and Clint mouthing along the words as Thor’s voice crescendoed into the climax of his story. He gestured with wide, sweeping motions, and Bruce, without flinching, calmly moved a cup of water out of the danger zone. They’d learned from experience that anything within Thor’s range was likely to go flying across the room when he got to his favorite part.

Steve, somehow the polite one in this situation, nodded along to Thor with a tight smile. Tony wasn’t even pretending to listen - he had a hologram up on the table and was fooling around with the schematics of what appeared to be a suped-up toaster oven. Or at least that’s what it looked like to Bucky.

Bucky slid into the open spot beside Steve - his spot - and waited for the ‘valiant, glorious death’ that the heroes in Thor’s tales always seemed to end up suffering. 

“So it was that his sacrifice was not in vain, for with his death, the peoples could live on freely, saved from the wretched tyranny of centuries! And now, we of Asgard speak of his bravery and courage, and we commend his--”

“Yadda yadda, we know how it ends,” Tony interrupted, sitting up. “The poor bastard gets immortalized in story and we get to hear it over and over to duly honor his memory. Duly.” He rolled his eyes as Clint snorted. 

“Ah, Friend Stark, I see you  _have_  been listening,” Thor said, pleased despite Tony’s snide tone.

Tony waved his hands to dissolve the hologram. “Sure thing. It’s all fascinating. Love Asgardian culture to bits. Really great stuff. Can we move on to breakfast now? I was promised special donuts.”

“You, eating breakfast?” Natasha asked with an arched brow. She took a sip of coffee from her mug. “I thought you only ate things in liquid form.”

“I’ve been known to be spontaneous even in my old age,” Tony said with a half-shrug. “Plus Brucey’s been talking these suckers up _forever_ , so I might as well chow down when I can. I’ve got time today.” He winked at Bucky. “Pepper canceled my appointments so I’m free to meet the whole fam.”

With the attention suddenly on Bucky, he felt the urge to shrink into his seat. The Winter Soldier programming allowed him to stay upright, however, and simply glower at everyone.

“Guys,” Steve started in a warning tone, though it was probably unnecessary; they all knew by now how nervous Bucky was. 

“Are you really sure you want us all here?” Bruce asked kindly. 

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “They wanted to meet the Avengers, too.”

“Lucky them, getting clearance to see all of us,” Clint said as he stretched his arms. He yawned. “Now somebody said something about donuts, right?”

With a lingering, concerned glance, Bruce passed Bucky and entered the kitchen, from which he emerged with a large box of donuts and paper plates. “Go nuts, everybody,” he said, and they all dug in.

Steve grabbed two donuts and set them down on a plate before him and Bucky - a glazed one for himself, and a Boston Cream for Bucky, which was Bucky’s favorite. 

Bucky stared at it. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat,” Steve said. He bit into his and made an appreciative moan. “These are decadent. Better than most of the donuts I’ve tasted in this century. Where’d you find these, Bruce?”

Bruce launched into a quick story, but Bucky zoned out on the details. In the background, the Avengers chowed down - Thor most of all, who seemed to gulp his portion down in barely two bites. 

“These Midgardian delicacies are very pleasing to the palate,” he said, with powdered sugar dusting his upper lip.

Bucky grinned despite himself, and a familiar sense of camaraderie settled over him. It was just like with the Howlies, with everybody eating, laughing, bickering, and teasing. The only difference was that he was still finding his place among this group. He didn’t quite belong, because unlike Clint’s words, he _wasn’t_  an Avenger, not after all he’d done - whether it was his fault or not. These people were mostly Steve’s friends, and so Bucky had an in, but that was the extent of it. 

He caught Natasha eyeing him over the rim of his mug. She offered him a fortifying smile, which he returned with gratitude. 

They might not necessarily be his people, but they were still _good_  people. 

After breakfast, including a heaping portion of fruit that Bruce forced on them to make up for the sugary goodness of the donuts, they shifted to the living room where Tony immediately challenged Clint to Mario Kart. The rest of them settled down to watch or relax. Natasha read a book, Bruce filled out a crossword, and Thor appeared entranced by the video game, marveling at the ‘magic’ of it all before demanding to play the victor. 

Bucky and Steve cuddled on the loveseat, and Bucky spent the time tracing Steve’s hands with his fingertips. God, how he loved these beautiful hands. They allowed Steve to bare his soul with his art, and they touched Bucky with such tenderness that sometimes he wanted to weep. When he’d first returned to himself, the doctors had said he was touch-starved, and Steve had taken up the duty to give Bucky kind, comforting touches to get him used to the sensation. Now, they made him shiver with pleasure. 

JARVIS’s voice cut through the air. “Excuse me sirs and madam, but our three guests have arrived. They have passed through the lobby and are currently in the elevator. They will appear in approximately 15 seconds.” 

Bucky tensed, but Steve pulled him into an embrace. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. His hot breath tickled Bucky’s neck. “Just breathe. I got you.”

Bucky let himself relax, and then pulled away with a tentative smile as the elevator doors hissed open. 

Rebecca was flanked by her two grandchildren, both of whom possessed the family nose and dark coloring. The girl, Kimberly, had her jaw dropped in awe while the boy, Scott, seemed about to vibrate out of his skin. 

Rebecca, of course, was as unflappable as ever as she approached the Avengers and stopped. “Well, is anyone going to say hello or am I going to have to go first?”

“Hey, Becks,” Bucky said as he stood and swooped her into a hug. Kimberly and Scott gaped at him. 

Rebecca patted his cheek fondly. “You’re looking well. Thank you for arranging this visit.”

The second he parted from her, the other Avengers jumped to their feet to introduce themselves to both her and Bucky’s great niece and nephew. Steve was last in line, and although he went in for the hug, Rebecca backed away.

“Now, now, Steven Grant Rogers. I have _words_  for you.”

“Gran, come on, he’s _Captain America_ ,” Scott said. 

“He is now, but I knew him as the skinny kid who wouldn’t leave my brother alone.”

Steve’s face flamed, and behind him, Tony rubbed his hands together with glee, his eyes glinting. The other Avengers hid smirks, except for Natasha, who sniggered. 

“And let me tell you. How many times did I cook for you?” Rebecca poked her bony finger into Steve’s chest. “Or run errands for your ma when you were sick and Bucky was working? I helped you with homework, too, and ran for the doctor more than once.”

“Becca, I’m sorry--”

“After all that, I have to watch _TV_ to hear that you’re back from the dead, and then it’s two years later and the man hasn’t even bothered to write me a note. Honestly, did something hit you on the head and make you forget, or were you really too busy to get in touch with your family?”

Steve was a huge man, but he cowed under Rebecca’s words, drooping like a wilted flower. “There aren’t any words I can--”

Rebecca cut him off with a ‘come hither’ gesture. He bent down obligingly, and she wrapped her arms around him. He returned the hug, nearly lifting her off her feet. Then, she pinched his ear and he yelped. 

“Don’t you ever do that again, Rogers, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She huffed and released him. She glanced at Kimberly and Scott. “Well, aren’t you going to say hello to your great uncle?”

Bucky greeted his relations with an awkward handshake, although Scott’s grin widened. 

“It’s so cool meeting you,” he said. “Back in elementary school we had to do a project on family history, so I got to do a whole section on you and the Howling Commandos.”

Bucky smiled. “Wow. That’s...neat.”

“And now we can add a segment on the Winter Soldier,” Kimberly added, making Bucky stiffen.

“Kim!” Scott punched his sister. 

She rubbed the spot on her arm. “Ow, sorry.” She gave Bucky an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“How much do you two know?”

“I told them enough,” Rebecca said. She reached up to clasp Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Is that Mario Kart?” Scott asked. He’d noticed the TV monitor, which had been muted but was still on the game’s menu screen.

“Seriously?” Kimberly asked. “This is what the Avengers do when they’re not fighting?”

“Hey, it’s our day off,” Tony said. “And Mario Kart is a glorious training program. It hones the reflexes. Right, Barton? Oh wait, you still got hit by my blue shell. Bummer.”

“You want a rematch, Stark?” Clint said, stepping forward. “Because I’m not afraid to _own_  your ass in front of small children.”

“We’re not children,” Kimberly said, but she joined Scott on the couch as the Avengers settled down to view another game. She glanced at Natasha. “Can you show me some fighting moves maybe? You have such a cool style. My friends and I tried to copy and well...”

Scott snorted. “Uh, your hero worship is showing.”

“Shut up!” Kimberly said, but her face was red. She smacked her brother but quieted when Tony selected Rainbow Road and made a triumphant noise. 

“Oh, it’s _on_ ,” Clint said. He lifted his controller. “You and your punkass Toad are going _down_.”

Steve gently tugged Bucky toward the kitchen, where they could have more privacy with Rebecca. Just as Bucky turned, he heard Natasha speak up about the shooting range, and then Thor mentioned showing them his exercises with Mjolnir in the gym. Bruce added, quietly, that he could also give them a very quick tour of the labs if they wanted. 

“This is the best day _of my life_ ,” Kimberly said.

“Hands down,” Scott agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still got some more ideas for this series! Thanks for sticking with me :)


	9. Chapter 9

Things were going well. Almost _too_  well, but that was probably just Bucky’s paranoia setting in.

The majority of the Avengers were currently engrossed in Mario Kart with Bucky’s great nephew, while his great niece chatted with Natasha, and Steve laughed with Rebecca over a story from their past. It was...picturesque, actually. He could never have imagined his family getting along with the Avengers so well. It was more than he could’ve hoped for.

Which was why, after an hour, he had to duck into the quiet kitchen to breathe for a moment. It was good, but at the same time too much. 

Bucky huddled near the microwave and was just about to berate himself for being antisocial when Steve entered and spotted him.

“Was wondering where you ran off to,” he said, but his soft gaze conveyed understanding. He held out his arms, and Bucky sank into them gratefully. He missed small Steve, he really did, but there was something to be said about the muscled Adonis who could wrap him up tight and shelter him from the world.

“Who won Mario Kart?” Bucky asked, breathing in the scent of Steve’s cologne. _Cologne_. What was he, going dancing? Bucky smiled to himself. Steve had really wanted to make a good impression on his sister--funny how that would’ve had a very different meaning back in the day.

“Scott seems to be winning, actually. I thought Clint was going to throw the controller out the window. He kept complaining that he was an _Avenger_  and yet some civilian had better skills.”

Bucky snorted. “And Thor?” Last he’d seen of the Asgardian, he’d been cheering on the racers after failing to play well enough. It didn’t help that the controllers seemed child-sized next to his enormous hands. Bucky had watched Thor frown in dismay as he tried to power his vehicle away from the wall by pressing all the buttons simultaneously. 

“He left to make a quick call to Jane. I think he wants to practice these strange ‘video games’ with her so he can put on a better performance next time.”

Bucky chuckled and pulled back to view Steve’s face. “How bout you? You doing alright?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. I really am. It was good catching up with Becca. I missed her more than I realized.”

“I know what you mean. Now that she’s here...” Bucky shook his head. “Wish I could’ve seen Ma again. And some of the Howlies, too.”

Steve nodded, somber. “At least we have each other, right?”

“You’re a giant sap, you know that?” With a smile, Bucky lifted on his toes to press his lips against Steve’s. Steve tugged him close and they swayed together, still kissing until someone coughed.

Bucky extracted himself from Steve and stared in horror at Rebecca, who stood with an empty glass in her hand.

“Just getting some more water,” she said in her scratchy voice. Bucky held his breath, but she completed her task without a word. 

Bucky shot Steve a helpless glance, then cautiously approached his sister. “Becks? Um. What you saw...”

“It’s about time is all I can say.”

Bucky blinked at her. 

Rebecca turned to them with a smile, her glass now filled with water from the tap. “Honestly, I’m a modern woman, and you two have been in love forever. Of course you’re together now. It’s been long enough, hasn’t it?”

Bucky blew out a long breath. “You’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Bucky didn’t say that he knew a lot of their generation still had stigmas against homosexuality.

“It’s a new world nowadays. Remarkable, isn’t it? Now come on, back to the party. Also, we’re out of snacks.”

Exchanging relieved looks, Steve helped Bucky reanimate and return with a new tray of cheese, crackers, and pepperoni in addition to a fruit platter.

In the common room, Tony was turning off the game. “Alright, alright, we’re done here. Cool your jets, Birdbrain.”

But Clint was glaring at Scott, who glared right back. “You cheated.”

“Did not.” Scott sniffed. “I just have better aim.”

“Oh you did _not_  just say that to me.”

Natasha stepped in with Kimberly in tow. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint, who deflated with a pout.

Kimberly leaned in to whisper something to her brother, and Bucky caught a few sentences. “If I didn’t know I was bi before, I really know now. _Oh my_ _god_.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Scott said, but he added in a conspiratorial tone, “And completely accurate. Black Widow? Hot _damn_.”

“You hitting on my woman?” Clint asked. 

Scott jumped. “What? No. She’s...?”

“So you two _are_  together, how lovely,” Rebecca said as she sat on the couch. The rest of the Avengers, plus Scott and Kimberly, reclined as well.

“What about you, Mrs. Proctor?” Tony swooped forward to snatch up some pepperoni from the tray on the coffee table. He popped a slice in his mouth and chewed. “You seeing anybody?”

“Tony,” Bucky said in warning. JARVIS had informed them that Rebecca’s husband had passed away nearly two decades before.

“Oh no, certainly not. I’m fine with just me.” She yawned. 

“We should probably get going soon, huh, Gran?” Scott asked. 

“I suppose so.” 

A few more minutes of light conversation passed before Rebecca, flanked by Scott and Kimberly, made their way to the elevator doors and bade their farewells. 

Bucky joined them and bent so Rebecca could give him a goodbye kiss on the forehead. 

“You take care of yourself,” he said.

She patted his cheek fondly. “You, too. I’m so proud of you. Never forget that. And thank you for finding me. I’ve missed having my big brother in my life.”

A lump wedged in Bucky’s throat. “I’ve missed you, too, Becks. Love you, always and forever.”

“Always and forever. And Steven?”

“Yes?” He hovered close to Bucky.

“Take care of him. And Bucky, you take care of Steven. I swear, the two of you together...” She smiled. “Just be happy, the both of you. And try to stay out of trouble.”

“We’ll try,” Steve said. 

Bucky hugged Scott and Kimberly just as the elevator doors whirred open. 

“Today was awesome. Thanks for having us,” Kimberly said.

“It was great meeting you,” Scott said.

“Likewise.” Bucky glanced back at the Avengers. “I think it’s safe to say all three of you have a standing invitation. I bet Clint would like a rematch or two.”

“Hell yeah,” Clint said, pumping his fist. 

The Avengers waved as Bucky’s family stepped onto the elevator and were whisked away. Silence descended, and Bucky faced his new family. Gratitude suffused him, and words poured out. “Thank you, everyone.”

“Of course, Iceman,” Tony said. “Your fam’s pretty cool. Ah ha! Get it? Cuz they’re related to the Winter Soldier?”

Bruce groaned. “That was beyond awful.”

“Oh, I understand!” Thor boomed out a triumphant laugh. “Cool relates to temperature, but also to appeal, yes? It has a double meaning!”

“Yep,” Natasha said with a smirk. 

“Don’t encourage him,” Clint said, but he was hiding a smile. 

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “Today was great. Now is anyone up for a movie? I’ve heard that the new Disney one is good.”

And as they settled in for an Avengers movie afternoon/evening, complete with three different kinds of takeout that Bruce and Tony ordered, a calm sense of peace and contentment filled Bucky. For the first time, he felt like he belonged here in this world, with these people.

He’d had a life long ago, yes, but that was gone now, and he’d been so convinced that was a horrible thing. But was the present really so bad? 

He wasn’t the same person--he could never be the Bucky before the war. But maybe he could be happy with the man he was now. A man with not one but two families, old and new, to support him, embrace him. 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve whispered after the movie had started. Bucky leaned against him and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” And he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, everyone! Now onto other MCU and Stucky stories! :)


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